Maskless and Voiceless
by sarahandmarquis
Summary: A one-shot based on the theory that Erik cannot speak without his mask. BASED ON "THE CANARY TRAINER". Reading of the book isn't necessary for understanding of this one-shot. EC. Rated K. COMPLETE.


Author's Note:

Dear Readers,

This is not based on the _Phantom of the Opera_ book or even Kay's _Phantom_. I just had the pleasure of reading _The Canary Trainer_ (which I highly recommend to any Phantom of the Opera or Sherlock Holmes fan) and this is based on a idea from it. If you like this, let me know. I'm thinking of writing something more based around that book. It might be a little hard to get around the ending but, hey, I'm a fanfic writer...such things always have a way around it.

sarahandmarquis

"But, Erik, why?" I whine, purposefully crafting my voice with the most pleading tones I could produce. "Please, why can't you remove your mask? We are to be married and I have never seen the face of my fiancé!"

"Christine, you don't understand! My mask…it must remain on! Can you not be happy with this? Surely it is a masterpiece? Almost normal?" He responds, apparently a little frustrated with my obsession over that awful piece of porcelain that adorns his face always.

He is madder than I ever thought he could be. Normal? That mask? Hardly! There is no movement to the solid object and I agitate over the covering. Other than being quite disturbing in its single unexplainable expression, it is also concealing.

He hides everything from me behind that item.

"No, it is not even close to normal, my dearest love! Now, please, won't you remove it? For me? So I may see the face of–" He roars at me, his temper loosened the moment I mention his face a second time.

"You will never see my face!" Towering over me, he succeeds in terrifying me. Nothing is as frightening as my husband when he in furious. I cower before him and cover my face on impulse, watching through my fingers as his anger melts away and abject horror is left within his golden irises.

"Forgive me!" He falls to my feet and grasps at my skirts, lightly brushing stone lips against the trembling cloth. "Forgive your horrible husband!"

How can I remain mad at so heartfelt a plea but, while I may forgive him, I still wish to see beneath the mask.

Kneeling before me, I grasp his covered face in my hands and lightly plant a quiet kiss against his white forehead.

"How can I not forgive you? I love you." My words seem to console him as he leans against my shoulder and weeps silently.

"Tell me why you can't remove your mask. Tell me. I won't hate you for it." I know that is likely his fear. Every other thing I have struggled to drag from him have involved his damned self-loathing.

"You would…" He whimpers, "You would despise me. You would know it was a monster to whom you had promised yourself. A creature who requires a mask to even communicate to those of your kind."

His words leave me puzzled but I continue to ask questions as opposed to making assumptions.

"Can't speak? Please explain, Erik. I don't understand." His beautiful voice catching several times, he endeavors to remove my confusions,

"Erik's poor mother…poor woman…always told him, 'never speak without your mask!' 'Boy, your mask! You mustn't speak!' 'You're nothing but a monster, a creature, without your mask. Always keep it on if the world is to see you anything close to human'. Erik wore it so often, and never once was without it when speaking that he has quite lost the capably to talk without it. Besides, a monster lurks beneath this mask, you wouldn't want to see it. I would lose you!"

Deep inside my chest, my heart cracks at his shaky response, clueing me into more pieces of his history. Now, I knew already my chosen mate wasn't handsome or desirable. I hadn't chosen him for any outside reason though I didn't and still don't object to his appearance.

I chose him because I irrevocably loved him.

I liked to think I wasn't so shallow that a hideous face would make me cease such a love.

"Erik, you wouldn't lose me. I have made a promise."

"Promises are only good to humans. If the mask leaves, you will know I am no human." His voice lowers to a whisper as he buries his head against my many layers of skirts, preferring their soft embrace to my own now.

"Your mother was human. Your father was human. You are human. Two humans cannot make a monster any more than two wrongs can make a right." I skim my fingers through his sparse hair and tug away at the straps to his mask, his hands reaching up to restrain mine.

I grasp his hands in mine and kiss both, every finger of them before setting them aside and returning to the mask straps. He doesn't try to retrain me this time but I hear and feel quiet keening coming from the man lying in my lap.

He believes I will leave him.

When the straps fall loose, I gently lift his face towards mine, no easy feat considering how large a man he is and how slight I am.

His eyes are squeezed close, every muscle in his "face" taunt with poorly concealed terror. I admit, despite knowing he is hideous, I do take a moment to reconcile myself with his new visage.

Corpse is an accurate word despite how much I may hate it. A missing nose, sunken cheeks, dried and drawn lips which do not close completely, yellowed skin, and eyes set in the skull are all features usually attributed to the long dead.

Tears form in my eyes as I begin to shower kisses over every inch of what he considers his worst feature. On closer inspection, I see tiny white lines coursing his thin skin.

Scars.

"Oh, my love…" I whisper, pillowing his skull against my breasts, feeling his torrents of tears soaking my dress. Whimpers, grunts, and moans all read my ears and his fumbling fingers search for the white monstrosity that is far more hideous than his face could ever be.

I grab it and toss it aside, hiding it beneath his organ. He stares up at me in horror, his jaws moving but not syllables leaving.

He reminds me a great deal of a child whose protective blanket has been stolen from him.

"Erik, I won't reject you because of your face. why would you think I never could? I love you. And, you love me. And, one day, you'll be able to talk without that horror that has covered you for far too many years." He tries, gasping and moaning before his head falls between his shoulder, the great thing shaking back and forth.

He doesn't believe me. Of course.

I expected that.

"You will. Your face doesn't bother me at all. You must learn to speak without your mask so I may see you. It shall be a game of charades until you have once more mastered the language." His golden eyes peer into mine and he shakes his head again, rising to his feet and covering his face with his hands.

I wrap my arms around my lost, broken phantom and hug him close to my slender body.

"You'll learn again."

Months pass. As much as it maddens me not to have his beautiful voice whispering sweet nothing into my ears as we fall asleep together, I won't have the thing return.

For hours, we sit together and we work. Sometimes I wonder if he is completely mute or if there is even a semblance of speech left in him. Sometimes I nearly give up. But, always I know I can't.

All our sessions end in his losing his grasp on sanity as he falls to his knees and begs me for his mask, making promises to do anything just to have it back. He doesn't know where I have hidden it and I refuse each time, holding him in my arms like a frustrated child.

I kiss him, I tell him how much I love him, and we go on.

We are lying in bed together, his arms tucked close to me. He is asleep but I lie awake, a rare thing for us. Typically, he is awake while I rest.

I shift in his arms, a dangerous thing because he will wake so easily. This night is no exception as he is roused from sleep, his golden eyes blearily blinking in the darkness of the room. The dim glow of a candle illuminates his face and I see his lips tug into a faint smile.

"Chri…stine." He whispers, his first words since the mask left us. I am stunned and can't breathe for a moment. "I…lo…ve…y…ou."

I nearly sob with delight as I snuggle closer to him and kiss his thin lips.

"Erik, I love you too."


End file.
